La Vida Vampire

Cosmil watched Pandora for a reaction, but the big cat sat on its haunches beside the rocker and calmly licked a massive paw. Too calmly, perhaps, yet Cosmil would not scold Pandora for defending herself against the drunkard who had cornered her as she’d made her way home. It had only been a small bite, after all, not a kill. Pandora ceased licking and raised her amber gaze to Cosmil.

You foresaw only the vampires as a threat last night. Magick is not infallible.

“True.” Cosmil paused. “She handled herself well, did she not? Used her power without abusing it.”

You no longer see her as a monster, Old Wizard.

Cosmil sighed. “Not for a long while now, though I see more tests for her before the week’s end.”

Then Triton comes at last?

“Yes, and we must protect Francesca until he arrives.”

You wish me to watch her again?

Cosmil buried a hand in Pandora’s ruff. “Please, Pandora. I must concentrate on cloaking Triton while he travels.”

Shall I kill this man who smells of blood?

“Not out of hand,” Cosmil said. “Human justice must be served, if possible.”

Pandora snorted but leapt off the porch to head for the city. Cosmil drew a circle in the air, and the concealing spell he ’d conjured for Pandora’s extra protection snapped into place.



Showering with Saber was my erotic dream come true, only better. Unsure and shy at first, I was soon hotter than the water cascading over us. Saber showed me a creative use for the built-in tiled bench and the term pulsating showerhead took on a whole new meaning.

We toweled each other off and might have drifted back into bed, but the phone rang incessantly. Finally I dashed to answer the cordless extension unit that had fallen on the floor—don’t ask me when—while Saber went to dress in Maggie’s room. It was the ghost tour company asking me to fill in for a guide who had a family emergency. I wanted the evening free to spend with Saber, but they’d tried everyone else on the backup list, so I agreed to take the gig. I’d be safe with Saber, and though I didn’t know where he’d be sleeping tonight, I hoped to grab more alone time with him. Let’s face it, I hoped to grab more of him, period.

Ten minutes later, I was wearing terry cloth shorts and a T-shirt and blowing my hair with my hurricane-force dryer when Saber padded up behind me, barefoot and bare-chested but wearing his dress slacks.

“Heard anything more from Maggie?” Saber yelled over the noise of the blow dryer.

“Nope, but she’s due home in a little over an hour,” I called back, smiling as our gazes met in the mirror. He caressed my hip and held up a black turtleneck pullover. “You think Neil would mind if I borrow this?”

“He’ll never notice.”

“He will if you rip it off me,” he said and pulled the thin sweater on. His muscles rippled under the fabric, and my hair dryer suddenly seemed too hot.

I switched it off and turned to Saber. “Need I mention the biting incident again?”

“That little bitty hickey isn’t healed yet?” He hooked one arm around my waist and lifted my hair for a peek.

“Not quite.” I laid my hands on his forearms to brace myself when Saber nuzzled the fast-fading bruise. “I’ll wear a shawl for the tour tonight.”

He froze and pulled back. “I thought you had the night off.”

“The guide on the schedule had an emergency, and no one else was available. We can go together and, um, do something later.”

“I can’t go, Cesca.” He let go of me and raked a hand through his hair. “I have to go to Hastings to investigate a suspected werebite, damn it.”

“A werebite?” I echoed. “I thought werecreatures were extinct.”

“They are, far as I know, but it’s my job to check out this kind of report. Problem is, Gorman’s out of the hospital.”

I tensed, then shook it off. “Saber, it’ll be fine. Hastings is only twenty or thirty minutes away, and Gorman isn ’t likely to take a run at me so soon—not after the beating he took.”

Saber gathered me in his arms and hugged me tight. “You’re overestimating his intelligence.”

“I’m gauging his self-preservation,” I replied, hugging him back, enjoying his scent and how natural it felt to be in his arms. He dropped a kiss on my head and stepped back. “Still, an ounce of prevention won’t hurt.” He flipped his cell phone open. “You have the late tour?”

“No, the eight o’clock.”

“Let’s see if March can suggest an off-duty deputy to hang out with the tour.”

“Saber, a bodyguard isn’t necessary. Really. By Murphy’s Law alone, I should have an easy tour tonight.”

“I trust firepower, Cesca, not fate,” he said, wheeling out of my room when March came on the line. I admit his protectiveness was endearing. I eavesdropped on his end of the conversation while I wielded the flatiron—until he went into Maggie’s room. I lost the words then, but made pretty darn good inroads on my hair by the time Saber came back carrying his duffel bag and looking grim.

I set the iron on a towel and gave Saber my full attention. “What’s wrong?”

He dropped his bag on my bed. “March gave me an update. Ballistics positively matched one of the .22s we found in Gorman’s house as the murder weapon, but the serial numbers were filed off. We can’t trace it.”